Paper Cranes
by tilly90
Summary: What is the greater sacrifice? One will give their life; the other their soul, for love. In the end, no one can win in the blood wars. All are punished. Dramione AU One-Shot.


_A bushy haired girl slid his train compartment door open, her wide brown eyes skirting around giving a quick scan of the area._

 _"Have you seen a toad? A boy named Neville has lost one." The exasperation was clear in her tone; toad hunting was not what she thought she would be doing on her first experience on the Hogwarts Express._

 _The blonde boy glanced at her quickly and shook his head. He looked down and continued to fold the paper with precise and practiced motions. Hermione Granger, ever inquisitive, looked at what he was preoccupied with for a moment._

 _"What are you making? Can I see?"_

 _She was then subjected to her first Malfoy smirk as he made the final fold with deft movements and pulled out his wand. With a graceful flourish, he swished and flicked his wrist incanting "Wingardium Leviosa", directing the crane to fly towards her._

 _His smirk turned into a true smile at her reaction. The delicate crane fluttered slowly, circling as it descended, and came down to rest on her open palm. She looked back to the blonde boy, met his grey eyes and beamed at him._

 _Deciding to give her a chance, he gestured for her to sit next to him and she eagerly walked over, analysing and appraising his craftsmanship._

 _"This is so beautiful; can you show me how to make one?"_

 _Draco preened at her approval and moved his collection of paper to rest between them._

 _"What's your name? I'm Draco Malfoy," he spoke, with a manner laced with an aristocratic flair._

 _"Hermione Granger, pleasure to meet you, sir!" she regally boasted in a playful tone, tilting her chin and offering her hand to shake._

 _He smirked again, taking her hand in his and bowed his head in an overly formal fashion. He very much thought he would like to be friends with this intriguing girl._

 _Draco passed her a piece of paper and they began folding. He admired how fast she learned and soon they had two cranes elegantly floating around the compartment. They mutually decided that a flock was needed and so they spent the rest of the train ride together, chatting about their creations and thoroughly enjoying each other's company._

 _For the first time in both of their short lives they had made a friend. They were drawn to each other and the new friendship was easy. Even in moments of silence, where they would just observe the floating cranes, it was peaceful and carefree. Hermione had felt the happiness grow in her heart as the hours passed, with the train winding through the Scottish countryside towards Hogwarts. For Draco, the train ride had easily been the happiest moment of his life to date, he never wanted to leave. The thought of leaving the compartment made his throat tight and sorrow clawed at his insides. He didn't want to lose the perfection of what the moment had been. For the first time in his life he had hope for his future and he didn't want to lose it, or his new friend Hermione, who was the tangible embodiment of this new feeling._

 _They both alighted the train with weariness, and were separated in the mass of students clamouring to leave the station. Hermione searched for the pale blonde boy and meandered through the crowd being jostled uncomfortably. Her heart raced and she grew frantic trying to find him again, her eyes prickling with tears at the thought of having to enter the massive castle alone._

 _She didn't want to be alone anymore._

 _Her logical mind processed that he couldn't be too far away and her anxiety slowly receded. She closed her eyes and took some deep calming breaths, slowly exhaling and inhaling. It was a trick her father had told her about; it never failed to help._

 _A familiar sensation prickled her senses and she became aware of something tickling against her hand limply held at her side. Nervous yet hopeful eyes looked down and noticed a paper crane fluttering against her skin. The beautiful crane was one of his, she could tell by the added decorative crease he had made on one of the wings. It was her favourite out of all the ones they had made, a treasure she would keep with her always. She held it protectively to her chest and smiled._

~~0~~

"He who has a why to live can bear almost any how"

Friedrich Nietzche

~~0~~

Draco Malfoy couldn't help but reminisce on the choices that had led him to this point, overlooking the chaos of war and death, and the desperation that had fully encompassed both sides. It was four years since the last battle of Hogwarts and here they all were again, fighting amongst the smashed and beaten ruins of what had once been the finest educational establishment in Wizarding Britain.

The castle was a hauntingly apt metaphor for the war itself, with its scorched and ruined stone walls- splintered and fractured, no longer being able to hold in place.

The very structure surrounding the chaos seemed to weep and crumble in despair as the living fought to the death over blood.

It was all meaningless.

In a way, he thought it was fitting that the end would be here where all this began in the first place. If the Sorting Hat hadn't made the _choice_ to place them in their respective houses, would things have been different? If Dumbledore hadn't made the _choice_ to leave Potter in the dark, would he have survived in the last battle on these grounds? If _he himself_ had made the _choice…_

No.

It was too late.

Too much time had passed and too much had been lost for redemption now. He wouldn't have accepted it for himself, let alone the other side accepting him, and thinking of what could have been was pointless.

It would never be. And she would never know.

So there he stood, shoulder to shoulder with the Dark Lord's inner sanctum, watching from higher ground as the armies below fought, each side with conviction, and fighting for what they deemed was "right". The Dark Lord stood resolutely at his side waiting to call to arms his last wave of fighters, which would descend upon the last resistance fighters of the Light, easily annihilating them. It would be a slaughter and end the war.

Draco stood there, doing nothing, just like he had countless times before. He had become skilled at being a Lieutenant, he was favoured in the Death Eater ranks, and highly respected for his genius aptitude for strategy. He hid behind the public persona he had created of calm indifference, his cold aloof expression always firmly in place betraying nothing. It was this visage that was currently in place as his eyes swept over the battles raging.

On the inside, he was screaming.

Hogwarts had taken everything from him, from them all really; he hated this place with every fibre of his being. He hated it even more, knowing that she would lose her life here and he would be still standing there.

Still doing nothing.

~~0~~

Hermione ran, her boots pounding through the rubble and slick grime of blasted limbs, gore and bodies. It disgusted her more that she was immune to this now and barely glimpsed at the corpses littering her path. The aerial fleet had fallen and now she had to pull a full retreat further into the castle ruins to protect what was left of her soldiers. She had lead them fearlessly since Harry's defeat and it had all finally been brought to a climax again where it had all started. They had deliberately forced the battle to take place at Hogwarts, using their detailed knowledge of the grounds to their advantage. The grounds were large enough for the two armies to converge and as she had predicted, Voldemort had brought his entire force to wipe them out once and for all.

Hermione had planned this, and held back her remorse for her dead companions. They had all known the risks and had decided the plan was worth it, even though it would be the most devastating action undertaken in this entire war. It was a desperate move made by desperate people who were left with no more choices.

For months they had researched and developed a spell that would only be used as a final resort. It was worse than all the Unforgivables combined and Hermione knew she would have to be the one to cast it. She couldn't think about the fallout, right now she needed to keep her thoughts from drifting and get to the last vestiges of the front lines to force the retreat.

Her wand fired out nonverbal spells at straggling duellers when she neared a stone archway and bounded around it to enter the fray beyond. It was madness. There were Tarantaculas, Giants and Dementors killing and maiming with ease as they weaved in between the masked Death Eaters, who were firing off the darkest curses with shouts of rage. The numbers were slightly in favour to her side, but they were slipping.

They had no more reinforcements, they had no more backups. They would have to use the spell and they would have to use it soon. There were just under one hundred soldiers of the Order of the Phoenix, that was all that was left against the rampaging forces of the Dark Lord. With the spell, they had one last chance and all that would be left was the Elder Wand in Voldemort's possession. It had become a chant in Hermione's head as she started to group her forces back further and further into the castle. It became an obsessive litany, and all of her being focused on what she had to do.

Cast the spell, destroy the wand, cast the spell, destroy the wand.

Sudden pops of Apparition startled her and she turned towards the haunted faces of her fighters to see what had happened. All around her the Death Eater's and dark creatures had left and the Order was standing in near silence, with only the moans of the dying and wounded and her own sharp pants of breath hitting the air.

It was too quiet.

Neville limped towards her and gestured with a blood streaked hand towards the large open grounds outside where a wave of black was slowly making its way toward them. The robed figures appeared to be a never ending, cascading wall of smoke with their macabre masks of death being the only indication that they were corporeal beings.

Hermione looked at Neville's face and absorbed his haggard appearance that contrasted with his firmly set jaw and the fierce glaze of determination in his eyes.

"You know what to do, its time." Her voice didn't waver and she spoke with authority, not showing her weakness or fear to her soldiers.

Neville nodded and pulled her into a fierce embrace knowing that this could be their final minutes if the spell failed to work.

"You can do this, Hermione, we can end this."

A brief nod was all she gave in reply as she moved to stand in front of the oncoming dark wave alone. She didn't look back and she didn't look up to see the Dark Lord or the blonde man beside him watching her from a distance. Behind her, what was left of the Order began chanting out wards they had created, which grew and spread like a dome creating an invisible wall between themselves and the oncoming wave of death. The hundreds marched ever closer with their approach sending waves of louder and louder vibrations running through the ground beneath her feet. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath inhaling and exhaling as she had done countless times in the past, it did little to help her now. Her hand went to her pocket to clutch her talisman of hope that remained with her always, it brought her comfort and solace and above all the reassurance that there was still any life in her left.

She stroked the paper wings and whispered "This will free us both, it will free everyone. This is for us."

All the noise around her vanished and her chanting started, she looked to the mass marching ever closer before her and raised her wand.

" _Lumos Solar Maxima!_ " she shouted, finalising the spell that would end the war.

The effect was instant and a bright beam of white light spread throughout the Dark Lord's army and rose upward in a mushroom cloud of light, heat, and the deafening screams of the slain. The spell harnessed the power of the sun and the aftershock stole the breath from her chest even behind the safety of the specially designed wards. A wall of bright flame rose up and over the protective barrier and slowly cleared away revealing the aftermath of what her spell had done. Before her was a thick covering of ash that blanketed the ground and rendered the area nothing but a sea of black dust, where once an entire army had stood.

She was numb with horror and shock at how effective the spell had been and stood looking at what she had done with horrified eyes and barely functioning breaths that left her panting and her heart racing.

She had done it. She had given them a chance at the cost of her soul.

~~0~~

Draco looked at the scorched remains below, at what had once been the entire fleet of the Dark Lord's army. He had seen gore, he had seen limbs ripped and eyes gouged. He had seen skin torn from bodies before and people mutilated and begging. He had seen horrific death in his time but on a scale such as this, it was both awe inspiring and the singularly most shocking display of power and magic he had ever seen. His chest ached at the anguish she would be feeling and the pride surged through his veins at how selfless she had been to sacrifice so much.

She had wiped out an army.

He knew this would torment her for the rest of her life and he felt sick with guilt at his inaction. The Order had the superior numbers now and all they needed was the Elder Wand destroyed and then victory would be theirs. He knew what he had to do. It was time for him to act and prove what had always been his truth. He had never told her how he felt, but he could show her in this final act. He would sacrifice, too.

~~0~~

It could have been hours or days since she had cast the spell. Time had stopped and everything around her had ceased to be recognisable.

She couldn't feel.

The ash and debris floating in the wind against her didn't register. The previous aches and injuries on her too thin frame had vanished. Maybe she had died in the blast? Maybe this was death? This feeling of nothingness and everything stripped bare so that there was no more pain, or love, or hurt. Maybe it was better this way?

She had nothing left, she _was_ nothing. A shell of what she had previously been, in a life that she had fought for and ultimately lost. Maybe this was true peace? Not that she would ever deserve such a thing again after what she had done.

The sky above had changed hues and was now lightening as the dawn approached signalling a new day. The sun appeared mocking, its fate always unchanged, as light flickered and danced over the decay of earth, soil, and flesh.

And there Hermione stood, the warm rays chilling her and making her gasp as awareness slowly returned. She looked around and saw Neville approaching looking exhausted and concerned at her finally breaking out of her trance like state.

"You'd already done so much, Hermione, we finished it, it's over. Voldemort is dead."

The need to voice if they were dead too sprang to her lips, but she hesitated and tried to slip back into soldier mode to respond.

"I need to see, show me."

He nodded and grasped her wrist tightly, Apparating her to the hill where Voldemort and his inner circle had been watching and waiting.

The scene before her was much like what she had encountered time and time before. The ground was strewn with black robed bodies, with a few of her own fighters laying in between them. She hoped more than anything that this would be the last time she would have to see death on this scale.

Neville didn't let go of her arm and was explaining how they had rallied and taken down the last of the Death Eater's to end the war. He hesitated briefly and seemed unsure how to continue, but met her eyes, and finished the tale.

"Hermione, there's something else you need to know. Just after you cast the spell a Death Eater turned on Voldemort and snapped the Elder Wand. Some of the others panicked and fled but the rest remained and he was killed. He was wandless at the time."

She heard what he was saying and an overwhelming sense of dread clawed at her chest. But, she knew. She knew who had given them their chance.

"Hermione, it was Draco Malfoy." He gestured to one of the black robed figures and as if she was drawn to him even now, her feet moved unconsciously towards his too still body.

She knelt down beside him and drank in his calm features, so still and peaceful in death. His platinum hair was slightly swaying in the breeze and gently brushed against his pale marble skin; she'd always admired his skin. Her hand reached out to clasp his and for the first time in years she felt something shatter in herself and a sob rose to her throat. She wanted to scream and wail and shake him, _anything_ , she would do anything if it meant he would come back.

For years they had played the roles they had been forced to fill, both at opposite sides at every turn. She never stopped being drawn to him and occasionally they would meet eyes and be back on that train again like they had been so many years ago. It would always be brief, but she felt it and she knew he felt it too. They had never had a choice and had never stood a chance. It was never meant to be, but something had been there and they had both refused to let it fester and die as the world burned around them.

Her fingers lovingly stroked his closed hand, willing it with all her might to open and return the gesture. If only once, just once she could hold him and say everything she never had the chance to. Her fingers brushed against something crumpled in his fist and her eyebrows crinkled as she slowly opened his palm to reveal a white paper crane. It was the first one she had made and after all this time, he had kept it with him. Her name was written on one of the wings in his elegant script. Seeing it finally broke her down and ripped her heart into pieces. A heartbroken sob finally escaped her and tears flowed down her cheeks as she drowned in grief and longing at what had never and could never be.

Through her despair her own hand reached into her pocket and pulled out her own crane, his crane, and she placed it alongside the one she had made for him on his chest over his heart. This was the moment she could give them what they had wanted, even with him gone, she could still give them closure and what they had longed for.

She tilted forward and rested her forehead against his, gently brushing her warm lips against his icy cold ones, and whispered;

"I loved you, too."

Fin


End file.
